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The C.E.O.'s Unplanned Proposal

Page 15

by Karen Toller Whittenburg


  It would take a stronger woman than she was to stand against a statement delivered with such flattering simplicity and innate charisma, whether he meant it or not. She was already half in love with the man as it was, despite—or maybe because of—the fact that he had tried so hard to resist her and this optimistic, tenacious attraction between them. Not even a glimmer of attraction sparked when she looked at either of his two brothers. Bryce was amusing and an all-around nice guy, but while she knew he liked her, his flirting wasn’t serious. It was merely a diversion, a way to emulate his father and aggravate his older brother. As for Peter…well, he was still too much in search of himself to be interested in her and from the moment they’d met, he had treated her as if she were his sister, certainly never as a potential lover.

  But Adam…well, that was a horse of a different color altogether. The little shiver of excitement that swirled down her spine every time their eyes met, every time he even walked into the same room, made no sense. Certainly, it had no future. But if she prided herself on living in the moment—and she did—ready or not, this was it. She’d promised herself she’d be open to possibilities during her stay at Braddock Hall and a possibility had just opened up like the petals of an exotic flower, blooming where it had no business even being.

  Raising on tiptoe, she moved against him and kissed him impulsively, and fully on the lips. There was no teasing in the kiss, no tantalizing lures. She wanted to promise him—and herself—no more than this one moment. It was meant to be just a simple, honest kiss, a way of saying that she recognized the attraction and was open to the possibility of it. But with the touch of their lips, it instantly and unexpectedly became a covenant. There was more here than she’d bargained for and Katie was suddenly, completely aware of it…and afraid of losing a part of herself she’d never intended to put in jeopardy. Slowly and with more reluctance than she wanted to show, she pulled back and pressed her fingertips against his lips. “Be careful, Adam,” she whispered hoarsely and with intense sincerity. “It would be very ungallant of you to break my heart.”

  A flicker of surprise and possibilities lit the golden flecks in his eyes. “And most unprofessional, Katie, for you to break mine.”

  The surprise moved from his eyes to hers and she had an impulse to laugh at the unlikely idea that either of them were in such danger. But laughter was beyond her capability just then and would have been much akin to tempting fate. “I guess we can both consider ourselves warned then, can’t we?” With a smile that trembled uncertainly on her lips, she picked up the picnic basket, ready to share the burden of carrying it. “I’m hungry,” she said, resolutely cheerful. “How long until we eat?”

  SEDUCTION WAS NOT part of Adam’s original plan. He’d thought a few hours together ought to do the trick. Dinner, maybe a walk on the beach. Time to delve a bit into Katie’s background, discover perhaps why she intrigued him so, send a clear signal to his brothers that he wasn’t just jealous, he was staking a definite claim. No veiled warnings, no count-me-in as a competitor. Until the party was past, until Katie had accomplished the job he’d brought her here to do, Adam intended to let Bryce—and Peter, too, if he had any thoughts of courting Katie in earnest—know that she was not available. He meant to cut his brothers out and himself in with one carefully planned, strategic evening.

  He’d been patting himself on the back ever since the idea of the picnic had occurred to him. It was a touch of brilliance, he thought. A real Katie kind of date, with its air of spontaneity and intimacy, fun and clandestine romance. She could go barefoot if she wanted. In fact, he half-hoped she would. The funny part of the whole idea was how much he’d anticipated the moment she’d open the door and see him there with a picnic basket. He’d found random smiles sneaking up on him all day, even during the rather serious contract meeting with his team and Wallace’s attorneys. It could have been embarrassing if he hadn’t kept a glass of water handy as a tool to hide his inappropriate glee.

  It hadn’t once occurred to him throughout the long day that Katie might not agree to go with him. Nor had he spent a single minute worrying that she might honestly prefer Bryce’s company to his. He’d planned a picnic and she would want to go. It was as simple as that.

  Until the moment she opened the door and the questions floored him with a sudden and unsettling nervousness. She was wearing the red dress again, this time with a slender silver chain around her neck and a tiny puff-heart pendant nestled at the hollow of her throat. Her hair curled in subdued ringlets around her face and he’d never, in his life, seen eyes so blue. A man could drown in those eyes…and never once struggle for air. What if she wouldn’t go with him? What if she said a resounding, no?

  But she seemed thunderstruck to see him at her door and from there, the whole thing had gone pretty much as he’d planned. Right up until the moment in the hall when she kissed him and told him not to break her heart. From that point on, he was a drowning man, certain that seduction had been in the back of his mind all along. He just didn’t know if it had been in his plan or hers, or was the unexpected result of the two converging. Whatever the cause, he suddenly could think of nothing except the effect, which was the impulsive desire to kiss her until she couldn’t breathe, to caress her and stroke her, and tease her into begging him to make love to her. He wanted that suddenly more than he’d wanted anything in a very long time.

  He’d planned to drive down to Watch Hill Cove for the picnic. He’d asked Benson earlier to pull out the little BMW convertible he drove for fun and put the top down. Somehow a bit of speed, that cruising-low-to-the-ground rush, a touch of daring seemed the right mood to set for the evening he had in mind. But before they’d made it even halfway to the garage, Katie set about changing his plans. “Why should we drive all the way to the beach when there’s a perfect picnic spot right here?”

  He couldn’t think where she meant. “Here?”

  “The gardens,” she said, gesturing toward the grounds. “You have this wonderful, exotic display of nature right here at Braddock Hall.” She tipped her head to the side. “And I’ll bet you haven’t been inside the solarium in years.”

  “I was there only a couple of months ago,” he said in self-defense, although he’d only stepped in at his Grandfather’s bidding to see some new fern recently imported from South America. “And the beach should be very nice by the time we get there. Not too hot. Not too crowded.”

  “But not as private as the spot I have in mind.”

  Now, why would any man in his right mind argue with that?

  Chapter Eight

  Adam picnicked the way he did everything else…efficiently, focused and with a cell phone clipped to his side. Before they even reached the end of the hall, Katie had realized this was a man with a plan. And the obvious thing to do, if she wanted to throw him off-balance, which she did, was to set out to change those plans. So she suggested the solarium…and wondered the moment they were deep within its damp, exotic greenness if an invitation into her bedroom would have been any more blatant. In an hour, surely no longer than that, the glass dome over their heads would reflect the shining of a million stars and the golden glow of a nearly full moon. Around the spot where Adam had spread out the quilt, plants with large, thick leaves vied to provide privacy for the picnic. Katie had been in the solarium with Archer practically every afternoon since her arrival, but it had never before had such an intimate feel, such a primitive jungle wildness. Let’s get it on might just as well have been flashing in green neon lights right above her curly head.

  She, who had imagined being this alone with Adam a few dozen times, hadn’t expected to be struck with nerves the moment it happened. But she was so antsy she had trouble sitting still on her side of the quilt. She was too restless and excited to eat more than a few bites of the meal Abbott had so painstakingly packed. She had too many butterflies in her stomach to allow the champagne to work its magic. She was too unsure of what would happen next to relax. Would Adam kiss her? Did he need some encourage
ment? Should she pour him some more champagne? Would it be smarter to put her common sense into action and run as far away and as fast as she could? Or should she just call him on his cell phone and tell him she’d like to try out a few fantasies with him?

  “So you were raised by grandparents, too.” He continued talking, making conversation as if the air wasn’t charged with an electric attraction, as if they weren’t sequestered in a lovely, deep green solitude, as if the champagne wasn’t bubbling in their glasses, catching and reflecting the light of the tall, tapered, elegant candles. Abbott, it turned out, knew something about the esthetics necessary for a romantic picnic.

  “Yes,” Katie answered. Her throat felt dry and scratchy. So she coated it with more champagne.

  His smile came slowly and with gentle chiding. “I’ve told you at least a dozen stories about my growing up in the past thirty minutes and you’ve answered every one of my questions with a sketchy yes or no. Are you being deliberately mysterious, Katie?”

  “I didn’t think I should talk with my mouth full.” She licked her fingers to lend credence to the idea she’d been too busy eating to talk. “Abbott packs a mean picnic basket.”

  “He’s had a great deal of practice over the years. My Grandmother Jane loved summer picnics.”

  “And indoor camp-outs,” she said to show she remembered.

  “Those, too.” Adam folded his napkin, ran his fingers down the crease. “I’d still like to hear about your childhood. As we were both raised by grandparents, I think it gives us some basic experiences in common.”

  Katie sighed. She didn’t like to remember those times, even though she’d promised herself she would never forget them, either. “Living with my grandparents wasn’t a particularly happy arrangement for any of us. My father and I went to live with them when I was six, only a couple of months after my mother died and then…he died, too, a couple of months later. After that, it was just my grandparents and me.”

  “No aunts, uncles, cousins?”

  “No. Just the three of us.”

  He frowned. “Were you…mistreated?”

  She let her lips form a half smile. “They didn’t beat me or anything like that. I was just more responsibility than they wanted to have at that time in their lives. And they really missed my dad.”

  “As if you didn’t?” He said it with an edgy disgust.

  “They were as good to me as they knew how to be. And in their way, I think they loved me.” She cleansed the memory with a wry little smile. “Don’t get me wrong, Adam. I’m grateful for every minute of the life I’ve had and they had a big influence on that. For the better. I only wish they could have known more happiness themselves.”

  “They’re no longer living?”

  She shook her head, wishing she felt more than a vague regret at their absence from her life. “They died within a year of each other. Very soon after I left their house for the last time.”

  “How old were you then?”

  “When I finally marshaled enough courage to go, you mean? Seventeen. Barely.”

  His eyebrows went up. Lying on his side, as he was, propped easily on his arm, Adam looked relaxed, interested and totally focused. On her. And what she was saying. “I left home for college at sixteen,” he said. “I’ve never been so terrified in my life…or so determined not to let it show.”

  She folded her napkin, too, and ran the crease through her fingers. “Leaving my grandparents’ house was what I wanted more than anything else,” she said. “I’d planned it for years…and it was still the scariest thing I’ve ever done.”

  His smile was understanding, and the ensuing moment of quiet was more companionable than any she had ever known. “Where did you go?” he asked after a while.

  She shrugged. “Everywhere. Anywhere. I spent most of my growing up years looking at maps and reading books about other places. So when I left Oklahoma, it was just a matter of searching out some of those places.”

  “It can’t have been that simple.”

  “Not at first, maybe. But my favorite game as a child was to close my eyes, spin around three times, and jab my finger at a map. Whatever town was closest to the end of my finger was the winner.” She smiled, remembering the great pleasure of discovery. “Then I imagined living there and what kind of life I’d have in the place I imagined it to be.”

  “Sounds a little lonely.”

  “I lost my whole life before I turned seven. Loneliness just sort of came with the territory.” She hadn’t said that to anyone else. Ever. But, somehow, she felt Adam understood, even before the words were spoken. “You lost your mother at an early age,” she said to draw him out and to stop talking about her own childhood. “You must know what I mean.”

  He started to deny it, but then…he didn’t. “For a long time, I believed my mother died rather than take on the responsibility of raising me. I thought there must be something really wrong with me. It doesn’t make sense now, of course, but then…well, I was a child and both of my parents had abandoned me and I thought it had to be my fault, somehow.”

  “Your father?” Katie asked the question softly, not liking to intrude, but she genuinely liked James and she wanted to understand how his life choices had affected Adam’s. “He wasn’t around much when you were a child?”

  “He made the occasional stab at fatherhood, but he was never very successful at it.” Adam turned the cloth napkin over and traced the crease on the opposite side. “My grandmother said he loved my mother so much that something in him died with her and he got lost in the search to find his heart again. Most of the time, I can believe that.” He shrugged. “Then he’ll show up with a little alley cat of a fiancée like Monica and I go back to thinking he never had a heart to lose.”

  “But you had your grandparents to give you a good foundation and more love than most people ever know. You were lucky, Adam.”

  “You’re right.” His smile conceded her point. “I’m sorry you couldn’t have been as fortunate.”

  “Don’t be,” she said and meant it. “My childhood sounds sordid and tragic when I talk about it, depressing even, but it wasn’t. Who knows? If my parents had survived and given me a home, I might have turned out to be a rebellious punk with pink hair, multiple body piercings and a really bad attitude.”

  He laughed. “When you put it like that, I’m glad you only wound up with a ring on your toe.”

  She felt a little thrill that he had, at least, noticed her foot jewelry and decided that for the party she would paint her toenails in ten different circus colors. “Your grandfather likes my ring,” she said. “I’m thinking of getting him one for his birthday.”

  Adam laughed again, with real humor. “I’m sure he’d be very appreciative. He seems to think anything you do is pretty spectacular. I don’t know how you managed to bewitch him so completely.”

  Katie felt a pang of disappointment that Adam, apparently, didn’t find her accomplishments quite so spectacular. Obviously, she hadn’t managed to bewitch him. “I adore your grandfather,” she said. “He’s a really wonderful man.”

  “You’d have liked Grandmother, too. And she, I’m certain, would have liked you.”

  “I’m sure she and I would have gotten along splendidly. The way your grandfather talks about her, she was a very special lady.” Katie put the champagne flute to her lips and let the last drops dribble onto her tongue. “I certainly like her grandsons.”

  He smoothly reached up and took the glass from her hand, setting it aside, and turning the air into a sudden, steamy current of sexuality. “All of them?” he asked. “Equally?”

  She ran the tip of her tongue across her lips, tasting the lingering effervescence of the champagne. “It would be rude and impolite of me to name a favorite, don’t you think? I am, after all, a guest.”

  “Hmm.” His fingertips brushed across the top of her hand, sending a fiery shiver of anticipation rocketing up her arm. “I suppose that might depend on whose guest you are.”

 
; She knew where this was leading, and she meant to follow it through to its inevitable conclusion, but one of them was going to have to be more direct. No reason it shouldn’t be her. “Are we talking about whose house I’m a guest in…or whose bedroom?”

  For a second, he looked startled, then amusement tucked in at the corners of his mouth. “Have you been a guest in a bedroom other than your own?”

  “Well, not lately,” she said, wishing she could tell a bald-faced lie to wipe the confident look off his handsome visage. But lying took so much energy and it rarely turned out to be fun. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

  “You’re right. And if it had happened in my house, I would have heard about it.” He smiled with conviction. “It’s a big house, but a small family.”

  She moistened her lips and decided to skip from direct to perfectly frank. “So, Adam, were you just curious to know if I’m sleeping with someone or are you working your way around to inviting me into your bed with you?”

  His eyebrows arched, but only a little. “That’s a direct question,” he said softly. “And I believe it deserves a direct answer.”

  Katie couldn’t have moved then if her life depended on it. She sat, her legs tucked to one side, one bare foot hooked in a fold of the quilt, her arms trembling for want of support, as he rose to his knees before her and cupped her face in his hands. For long, breathless seconds, he held her captive with no more than the desire in his whiskey-brown eyes. Her heart had stopped at his words and now waited for permission to beat again. His answer, when at last it came, was a kiss. Not like the first one. Nor like the second. This was no impulsive act. No surprise attack. His lips came to hers in the kind of long, slow, wet kiss Katie would have liked to linger in for days. Years, maybe. A kiss that had depth and possibly consequences, but she put all her energy into being present in the moment and enjoying every second of it.

  Almost instantly, however, the attraction sprang from embers to flames inside her, pooling in a liquid rush of wanting and sending her arms around him, turning her live-in-the-moment philosophy into a pulsing need for the future. A future in which he would be naked. When she would be, too. When their bodies and hearts would come together in a thousand moments, each better and more intense than the last. She wanted him with an astoundingly complicated, and yet simple, desire. She wanted him to feel the same desperate, out-of-control passion already kindling within her.

 

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